TheBanyanTree: Two Years

[Margaret R. Kramer]

Here I was on 2/22/08:

After going into a major panic meltdown, thinking that Ray was being
mistreated, and thinking about filing a medical malpractice lawsuit, I
finally talked to Ray's doctor. He's having a lot of abdominal gas, which
affects his breathing. He had an episode the other night when he stopped
breathing because his abdominal cavity was so full of gas and that it
smushed his lungs. She put in a tube and that helped release some of the
gas. He still has colitis and she said she would start a steroid if this
current anti-inflammatory drug doesn't work. He's getting his food through
IVs now. He looked a little better last night when I visited him, but he was
still cramping. The junk coming out of his mouth has stopped. I bet that
tube sucks that out, too. I'll see how he's doing tonight. I like Friday
nights because I don't have to make dinner and I can stay at the hospital
later. Boy, I'm so worried about him. I'm more worried about Ray than I ever
have been before. Even the doctor told me that she thinks about him all the
time and can't figure out what's going on with him. Well, that makes two of
us. I love that man so much. 

I wrote this in the morning of 2/22/08.  This was my last journal entry
before his death.  Later that afternoon, his doctor called me and told me
that Ray had taken a turn for the worse.  She had him moved into ICU.  I
started crying at my desk at work and one of my coworkers came around to see
what was wrong.

Then I drove home from work.  I knew I had to call his family and ask them
to come to Minnesota to see him.  As I told his daughter, it he makes it,
then they would have had a nice visit, if he doesn’t, then it will give his
family a chance to see him one last time.

They came to the hospital on Saturday afternoon; two of his daughters, a
son-in-law, and his favorite grandson.  He lit up like a Christmas tree when
they came into his room.  If I had to give him anything before he died, I’m
so glad he had a chance to visit with his family.  Their visits were tiring
for him, but every second was worth it.  I know he was able to let go of
life after he had a chance to see them again.

He made one last stand on Sunday, February 24, 2008, as one widow told me,
the rally before death.  His blood counts were moving towards normal and
they moved him out of ICU into a private medical stand-down room.  The room
had a window and he mentioned to me that it was the first time he had seen
the sun in three weeks.

He went into cardiac arrest the next morning, and lost consciousness.  He
died just after noon on February 25, 2008.

And when I saw him take his last breath, well, in a sense my life ended,
too.

I’ve made it through another year without him.  In a sense, this was a more
difficult year, because I’m acutely aware of what I lost.  Last year, I was
a numb shell.  This year, I’ve regained some of my personality that I had
when Ray was alive, which means I’m just a half person.  No matter what
happens going forward; I’ll never be the same person that I was before Ray
died.

What changes have I made this second year?

Well, I have a new job.  Ray would have loved it – me working so close to
home.  He would have been glad, because for this job, I don’t have to
travel.  He hated it, and I did, too, when I had to travel for work.

I had a handyman come and fix a bunch of stuff last year.  I’m useless
without Ray.  The doorbell doesn’t work, and I have no clue on how to fix
it.  Should I buy a new one?  Is the connection the problem?  I don’t know.
Ray knew everything.

I got a new roof and gutters last summer.

I still drive the flower van.

I bought a small HD TV for the kitchen and a large one for the living room.
Ray watched a lot of TV; he would have loved the new TVs.

I keep his laptop computer in the kitchen.

I bought new cordless phones for the house.

I bought a new lawn mower and a new vacuum cleaner.

I bought new everyday dishes.

I drink wine now.  I never drank when Ray was alive.  I used to ask him if
he and I were the only two people in the world that didn’t drink.  I’m sure
he would think it odd for me to drink wine.

I’ve met new people since Ray died.  I wouldn’t even know these people if he
wouldn’t have died.  Kind of like the one door closes and another one opens
quote.  I have my widow and widower friends.  I have my phone survey
friends, and now I have new work friends.  Ray would have liked my new
friends.

Of course, there’s Joe.  I think Ray is happy I have someone and I’m not
sure how he feels about Joe.  Is Joe the best one for me?  Or is Joe the
best one for me at this time?  But Joe and I have mellowed out considerably
since our first year after the deaths of our spouses.  If nothing else, Joe
and I immediately understand what we’re talking about when we talk about
them.

Joe and I saw Avatar this afternoon.  It’s a very good movie.  When the main
characters talk about “seeing” each other, that’s exactly how Ray and I
were.  We “saw” each other in spite of my weight (I weighed 225 lbs when I
met him) and the fact that I smoked and he had his health problems.  We
“saw” each other in spite our quirks and compulsions and strange habits.

We “saw” the good in each other; the creativity, the silliness, the laughter
and the jokes.  We could talk about politics and gossip and Tiger Woods and
the Olympics.  He loved bingo and I loved concerts and plays.

He was Santa Claus and I was the nerd who read books all day.

We “saw” each other, and loved each other; I can feel that strong love still
come crashing over me at times.  And one day in the future, we’ll “see” each
other as truly are, without the cumbersome bodies.

On Friday, February 26, 2010, I’ll begin my third year without him, and I’ll
find out what that year has in store for me.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
margaret.kramer at polarispublications.com
www.polarispublications.com
www.linkedin.com/in/margaretkramer

Love is a symbol of eternity.  It wipes out all sense of time, destroying
all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end. 
-Unknown